


foolishly, completely falling

by drowninginmyworries



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, B99 Summer 2019 Fic Exchange, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Porn with Feelings, Smut, only like a lil bit though because I'm a big softy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-06-27 11:04:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19789573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowninginmyworries/pseuds/drowninginmyworries
Summary: “Are you… asking to hook up with me?” Amy asks slowly, every syllable enunciated carefully.“Whaaaat? No! Nope. No, I definitely was not! What I meant to say was -’’“Becausetheanswerisyes.”Jake freezes, eyes bugging. “Wh-What?”“I-I said yes.”orJake and Amy are friends with benefits. What could go wrong?





	foolishly, completely falling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kamelea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamelea/gifts).



> This is my fic for @b99fandomevents’ summer 2019 fic exchange on tumblr. This is especially for @kamelea, who requested a friends with benefits AU. It was a joy and a journey to write, and I hope you enjoy it :)
> 
> HUGE thank you to @amydancepants-peralta, who was there for me every step of the way and helped SO much with this fic. Renee, you’re an angel. <3
> 
> I guess this is technically canon divergence from some point after The Bet, but it doesn't make any reference to major plot lines in the show, so it could also be its own AU.

_October 18th, 9:17 PM_

With a final groan and sharp gasp, Amy falls forward and collapses against his chest, panting into his neck.

Jake quirks his head to look at her, and her current state is enough to give him heart palpitations. Her mouth is hanging agape as she sucks in air audibly, chest still rising erratically, and her hair is sticking to her forehead in a messy disarray that’s so strikingly different from her usual tidiness. Light leaks in from the window blinds above the bed, illuminating her face with an angelic, soft glow. 

Then, she meets his eyes, and his heart twists. 

Amy’s always beautiful, but seeing her like this, laid out so intimately is just something else. It’s everything he’s been yearning to see, experience, and sink into for an _embarrassingly_ long time.

_I love you. I want to be with you forever. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than in your arms. Every minute you’re not with me is a minute too many. Please, don’t go._

That’s what he wants to say.

“I take it you enjoyed yourself, then,” he begins haughtily instead, voice exaggerated and drawn out. “How many was it for you today then? Four, hm?”

Amy elbows him in the ribs, _hard_ , and he yelps loudly, drawing back from her sharply as he shoots her a betrayed expression, his lower lip jutting out as he holds his side. 

“I make you come four times and _this_ is how you say thank you? By breaking my ribs?” He rubs his side exaggeratedly. 

“I am, if you’re going to act like a jerk about it,” she mutters, eyes refusing to meet his, but the corners of her lips are turned up slightly, and all he can think about is making her smile at him. 

“When was I a jerk about it? I can’t help it if I’m an amazing sex-god-slash-genius, Amy.”

“Oh my god, you are _insufferable,_ ” she groans, but then her smile stretches.

She lifts her hand again, and for the briefest moment he thinks she might sock him again for being so obnoxious, but instead she reaches out to softly run her fingers over the spot where she hit him. 

Her first touch is barely-there, ever so tentative. It’s almost timid, and then she pauses for a second before continuing to rub little around his ribs with her thumb while the rest of her hand splays across the side of his torso. 

Jake’s eyes flutter shut, and the simple intimacy of the action makes goosebumps burst out across his skin. He leans into her touch, slowly lifting his arm to curl around her body as he eyes her face carefully.

Amy stiffens for the briefest of moments, but she doesn’t move. A beat of time passes, and she takes a deep breath before shifting a little closer to him, resting her head against his chest. Slowly, she slides her hand up from his ribcage, over his neck, to the top of his head. 

Holding her breath, she cards her fingers through the bird’s nest on his head, paying extra attention to the curls at the nape of his neck and twisting them around her thumb lightly. He lets out a little sigh and pulls her against him a little more snugly, resting his chin on the top of her head. 

To say it’s nice is an understatement. It’s the kind of moment that he would freeze and live in forever if he could. He doesn’t need anything as long as he has her. 

But he doesn’t have her. Not really. Not the way he wants to. 

He tenderly presses his lips to her hairline, and her whole body goes stiff.

Abruptly, she ceases her gentle petting, pulling away from him as he curses himself inwardly. The peaceful smile that graced her face a few minutes ago is nothing but a memory now, replaced by a more detached look. 

“I think you should go now,” she mumbles, not looking at him. She meets his eyes briefly, but then darts her gaze away. 

He grips her more tightly for just a second before he nods, forcing a tiny smile at her. 

She nods back, more out of obligation than anything else, and he swings his legs over the side of her bed and hoists himself up, awkwardly pulling on his boxers that had been haphazardly discarded earlier. 

There’s shuffling on the other side of the bed, and by the time he has his jeans and shirt back on Amy’s briskly walking out of the room, taking all the awkwardness with her. 

Jake huffs out deep breath and sinks to the floor to put on his sneakers, only vaguely aware of the sound of running water coming from the kitchen. 

Sex is fun. That’s just a fact. Sex is kind of like pizza, too, in the sense that even when it’s not-so-great, it’s still good. But this is a whole other ball game. Sex with Amy is something else. It’s _stupid good_. 

Stupid good isn’t enough to make him forget about how empty he feels watching her walk away every single time though. It doesn’t matter how heavily they flirted leading up to it, how many giggles he got out of her being silly before, or even _during_ the act, or how much adoration he put into his kisses. 

Amy always walked away after, and they would pretend like nothing happened the next day, save for maybe a secret glance or two. 

Earlier, when their arrangement was still new and barely born out of poorly-contained sexual tension, it was easier to keep it from getting to him. Now though, he feels like he’s shocked out of heaven every time it happens, and waiting to go back isn’t enough anymore. 

He doesn’t even entertain the idea of her wanting him the same way he wants her. 

Because he’s Jake, and she’s Amy, and she’s so far above the clouds while he’s struggling to get his feet off the ground.

_September 7th, 10:26 AM_

_“Hey, can I talk to you in the evidence lock up?”_

_Amy looks up from her desk at the sound of his voice, a higher pitch than normal, and raises an eyebrow in question. She almost looks startled, but he attributes it to him coming out of nowhere rather than anything else._

_He’s standing in front of her, wringing his hands together and pulling on each finger individually until they pop._

_“Is this about the Ferguson case? I told you, just let me handle it right now. I’m the primary, and I -’’_

_“No, not that, but I will definitely bug you about it later,” he interrupts before continuing distractedly. “I just wanted to talk to you. About a thing.”_

_“A thing.”_ _Amy’s eyebrows furrow in question, crossing her arms across her chest._

_He stares blankly, until he realizes with a start that she’s waiting for him to continue._

_“Yeah. A thing. Come with me?”_

_He’s minutely aware of his hands shaking, and if he were in her shoes, he’d have a prime view of the tips of his ears reddening._

_A perfectly neutral expression is schooled on her face, but then she drops her pen onto her desk and stands up._

_“Okay. Lead the way, Peralta.”_

_Jake nods at her, turning on his heel and walking towards the evidence lock up, his mind racing._

_This was it. He thinks back to the speech he rehearsed for thirty minutes in front of the mirror that morning. All he needs is thirty seconds of courage._

_Once they’re inside, door closed behind them, he lets out a long breath, turning around to meet Amy’s gaze._

_“Okay. So, uh,” he pauses, clearing his throat._

_Amy cocks her head to the side in curiosity, and suddenly everything he practiced that morning is out the window._

_“You’re_ really _smart, and pretty, and I know we’re so different it’s kind of crazy but I was wondering if anything could ever happen. Like - ’’_

_He cuts himself off to gesture awkwardly between them with his hands, biting his lip._

_“And I don’t even know if you’ve ever thought about me in that way,” he continues. “And if you haven’t, it’s fine! It’s just… I wanted to know if this could ever happen.”_

_“Are you… asking to hook up with me?” Amy asks slowly, every syllable enunciated carefully._

_“Whaaaat? No! Nope. No, I definitely was not! What I meant to say was -’’_

_He begins to backtrack wildly. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He can’t have her think he only wants_ that. _Sure, he_ does, _of course he does, but he wants so much more too. He wants to hold her hand and cuddle with her on cold days he knows she hates so much. He wants to be with her at her best and be there for her at her worst, and if a stupid misunderstanding ruins this -_

_“Becausetheanswerisyes.”_

_Her words cut him off and hit him out of left field. Of all the things he was expecting, that absolutely was_ not _it._

_Jake freezes, eyes bugging. “Wh-What?”_

_“I-I said yes.”_

_“Oh. Cool. Cool, cool, cool. Cool.”_

_He’s just processing it, trying to make sense of it. It just doesn’t make sense in this reality for her to want to be with him like that._

_“What are you doing tonight?” she asks._

_He should correct this right now. He should tell her what he really meant, but at the same time, if she rejects him, he won’t ever be able to have anything with her, and just the thought of it is enough to tear a hole in his chest. Her hooks are so deep in him already._

_On the other hand, if he lets her take the lead here, she can drive the car. If she’s calling the shots, and if she really wants this, he can hang on to a little slice of her heaven._

_“You?” he asks, suddenly emboldened and bordering on teasing._

_Her mouth falls open, the corners tugging up a little bit as she averts her gaze and bites her lip._

_She shakes her head quickly the way she does when she’s getting ready to admonish him, and Jake can’t fight the smile he gives her._

_“Your place, eight PM. Does that work for you?” she asks instead of getting after him._

_Her sudden words make him suck in a quick breath, and her eyebrows raise at his reaction._

_“Yes ma’am.”_

_He gives her a mock salute, and she scrutinizes him carefully for a second. He holds his pose exaggeratedly, waiting until she pointedly turns around and walks away before relaxing._

_Jake maintains his composure for about .32 seconds before practically sprinting to the men’s room and flailing for a moment before pulling out his phone and googling ‘how to prep for a hook up.’_

_Yeah. He had a lot to do before tonight._

_September 7th, 7:50 PM_

_Jake’s spraying febreeze on his bed, neatly made for once, when he hears three quick raps at his door._

_Every cell in his body freezes, and he turns to look at the clock._

_7:50 PM._

_He rolls his eyes._ Such _a Santiago move to show up ten minutes early._

_He briskly walks to the door, lifting a hand to open it when he pauses again. He raises his arm, smelling himself. He’d taken a shower right after work, but still. There was no harm in double checking._

_Especially since this was Amy he’d be dealing with._

_Swallowing thickly, he wipes his hands on his jeans and yanks his door open._

_“You know, you’re not really impressing me by showing up ten minutes early. If anything, it’s an inconvenience_ , _because you told me eight, and -’’_

_Amy just rolls her eyes and shoves her way past him, setting her purse down on his lone remaining massage chair._

_Immediately, he can’t look away from her. She’s not even dressed provocatively, clad in a white blouse and floral skirt that goes down to her mid-thigh, but he’s still struck by her beauty._

_“Leave it to you to always be rushing at the last minute. Why aren’t I surprised?”_

_“Hey, it’s not my fault that I don’t go crazy in the face of a time crunch,” he shoots back, shutting the front door._

_Amy sends him a glare that he’s sure is supposed to be reprimanding, but actually, it just looks really damn adorable. She looks just like a tiny, disgruntled kitten._

_“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks._

_“Like what?”_

_“All smiley.”_

Because just being around you makes me so unbelievably happy. 

_“Because you’re hilarious when you’re annoyed. Seriously, it’s top-notch comedy. Have you ever thought of letting people roast you on stage?”_

_Amy doesn’t look impressed with his idea, and he just chuckles._

_“Fine, fine, okay, I should’ve known you were too uptight to do anything fun.”_

_“I think tonight should just prove I’m not actually as uptight as you think I am,” she says, trying to overpower the growing awkwardness in the room by just facing it head on._

_“Oh! Are you a freak in the sheets, or -’’_

_“No!” she gasps, sounding scandalized and blushing bright red at his insinuation. “I’m not a freak, Peralta! You’re the freak!”_

_Jake shrugs, unbothered as a haughty smile grows across his face. “Takes one to know one.”_

_His words settle in the air, and for a moment, neither of them speak._

_“So,” he begins, voice soft, all traces of teasing gone. “You still want to do this?”_

_“Yeah,” Amy answers, her tone matching his, barely above a whisper. “I still want to.”_

_“Okay… So, uh, should we kiss or something?” he starts, taking a tiny step towards her._

_“I – yeah – that seems logical.” She pauses for a second, tucking her hair behind both her ears. “Yeah. Kiss me.”_

_His heart leaps into his throat because he’s been waiting_ so _long for her to say those words, and he doesn’t need to be told twice._

_He crosses the space between them in two big steps and seals his lips over hers, one of his hands cupping her cheek just like the way he does in his dreams and the other taking a respectful spot on her waist._

_She takes in a sharp breath when they connect for the first time, both of her hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders._

_It’s kind of like dancing. He’s leading, movements slow and exploratory, his lips just a soft brush over hers. He hums a little, probing her lips gently with his tongue. They part easily for him, and he sweeps his tongue through her mouth slowly._

_Then, like flipping a switch, Amy bites his lower lip and pushes him against the wall, pulling back to gasp for breath and then kissing him hard._

_Jake gasps into her mouth, and then Amy shoves her thigh in between his legs and the simple action almost has his eyes rolling back in his head._

_“Amy, fuck,” he mutters, one of his hands sliding into her hair while the other latches onto her waist and pulls her closer. He brushes his thumb against the skin underneath her blouse, searing with heat._

_She takes the opportunity to bite his neck, and he cries out in equal parts surprise and pain._

_“Wh-What happened to Little Miss Appropriate?” Jake grits out, voice hoarse._

_“She’s not here,” Amy snarks back at him, latching onto his neck again as she starts to undo the buttons on his shirt with shaking hands._

_Jake puts one hand in her hair, just running his fingers through it the way he’s always wanted to for a second. It’s so soft and pretty, and there’s just_ so much _of it. He twirls a lock around his index finger, obsessed with feeling it. Amy could for sure be in a L’Oreal commercial. Those other women had nothing on her, anyway._

_He’s pulled out of his reverie by Amy shoving his flannel off his shoulders and leaning down to drag her lips across the newly exposed skin of his chest. His blood immediately rushes south at the sensation._

_Then, he freezes as she reaches for the button on his jeans, pulling back and jumping up quickly._

_She shoots him a curious, cautious look, opening her mouth - presumably to ask if he’s okay - but he yanks her into another wild kiss and backs them up against his bed, pushing her down and running his hands up and down her sides dipping under her shirt._

_Quickly, she bats his arms away, shifting back to give herself more room before she pulls her blouse over her head and drops it at their side, making Jake’s throat go completely dry._

_He pulls her closer to him and goes back to peppering kisses down her neck, groaning when she shifts to press her pelvis into his. He stops his assault of affection on her neck, simply clinging onto her like his life depended on it as she grinds against him._

_Slowly, so that she has time to stop him, he raises a hand to the clasp of her bra. He lingers for a bit, long enough that she quirks an eyebrow at him in question. Then, with a quick flick of his hand, he unclasps it, making her eyes widen in surprise._

_“You’re good,” she comments, smiling amusedly._

_He chuckles, nuzzling into her neck._

_“My talents go far beyond being the best detective in New York,” he teases, nipping the column of her throat._

_She digs her nails into his back in retaliation, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up._

_“Just shut up and keep undressing me,” she mutters, but he can hear the smile in her voice._

_“And you say I’m the impatient one.” He lets out a short laugh when she grimaces. “I know now that you’re just a hypocritical little – oh!”_

_He almost jumps out of his skin as she cups the bulge in his jeans in her hand, pressing the heel of her palm into him._

_His mouth falls open and he buries his head in her shoulder, letting out a loud, broken moan. He thinks he can feel her smile against his neck as she increases the pressure on him. Minutely, he rocks his hips forward trying to create more friction. Whether it’s as a response or just out of need to ground himself to something, he lifts a hand to her breast and tweaks her nipple, pleased when she inhales sharply and presses her whole body against him._

_Flailing a little, he slides her skirt down her legs, and she kicks it off when they reach her ankles, flying into his dresser. As she toes off her shoes, he reaches forward to take at the hem of her panties in between his fingers, looking to her for approval. She nods, and he slides them down quickly, going a little light-headed when he sits back to take her in._

_She’s laying back against_ his _pillows on_ his _bed, breathing a little labored as she stares at him, her cheeks red and pupils blown wide open._

_Like a moth to flame, he sinks down so he can be eye level with her, brushing his mouth against hers softly._

_“Amy, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs against her lips, and he can feel her responding shiver echo through every cell of his body._

_He kisses down from her mouth, lower, lower, lower, until he gets to her opening. She doesn’t even have time to take in a deep breath before he’s on her, face buried in her heat as he wraps his tongue around her clit. She yelps out desperately, hand grabbing for his hair._

_He lets out a pleasant hum before licking along her slit, and suddenly he’s yanked up by the roots of his hair._

_“Wha –’’ He looks up so he can her face, her eyes wide as she gasps for breath. “Are you okay? Did I – ’’_

_“Yes, yes,” she rushes, pulling him back closer to her. “I promise, everything’s fine. Everything’s great,” she insists, panting._

_He looks at her quizzically, and in lieu of giving him an explanation, she pulls his mouth back to hers, giving him a deep, open-mouthed kiss that makes him dizzy, punctuating it with a nip to his upper lip._

_“I just want you. Right now,” she says, a little quick, and a shiver runs up his spine at how husky her voice is._

_“You sure?” he asks, throat drying up as he fiddled with her fingers to try and grounds himself._

_Jake needs to make sure that she’s positive she wants this. This can’t be a mistake, or something she’s going to regret. He can’t disrespect her, or ruin anything about this. He cares about her far too much to take a chance like that._

_“Yes. One-hundred-percent sure.”_

_His hands fly to the button on his jeans, shakily undoing it as she leans forward to push them down with his boxers._

_She takes his length into her hands, pumping him gently a few times._

_He hears a sound, but it doesn’t register in his brain. He’s too preoccupied by the sparks of pleasure running through his body, shocking him into another plane of existence._

_“Jake!”_

_She jabs him in the shoulder, pulling him closer and snapping him out of his trance._

_He snaps his mouth shut, not even realizing it had opened. He can barely think clearly about anything when she’s touching him like this._

_“Yeah?” he asks through a haze._

_“I said I have condoms in my purse,” she answers, a small, amused grin playing on her lips._

_Her words catch up to him, and he shakes his head slowly. “Don’t get up. I have some in the drawer.”_

_He leans over, trying to reach his nightstand, but she beats him to it, opening it and rifling through its contents until she produces the foil package._

_In an instant, she’s back by his side, ripping it open and deftly rolling it down his length, pumping him a few extra times for good measure while he closes his eyes and revels in the feeling._

_“You ready?” he whispers, taking his spot on top of her again. He leans his head down close to hers, touching their foreheads together._

_“Yeah, I’m ready,” she murmurs back, squeezing his shoulders._

_Her hands on him are much more tender they’ve been all night her words softer than the touch of a feather._

_He needs to be closer, closer, craves it more than he’s ever wanted anything than his entire life._

_Jake shifts his hips forward a little bit, and with one smooth thrust, pushes himself inside her._

_She inhales sharply underneath him, and he melds his lips to hers to stifle the embarrassingly loud groan that rips through him. She’s so warm, so tight, like she was made to be with him like this, but he can’t focus on that or else he’s going to do something stupid like confess his love for her._

_“Ames, please, can I -’’ he gasps, breathless._

_“Yes, yes, please,” she murmurs back into his shoulder, sounding like all of the wind has been knocked out of her._

_Gently, he pistons his hips, pleasure crashing into him like a tidal wave. Underneath him, Amy clutches on tighter. Their bliss is a hurricane, and she’s clinging onto him like a life raft._

_A broken moan slips past her lips, and Jake’s driven forward, moving rhythmically in and out of her and reveling in every noise she makes._

_She’s arching against him, moving with him. She meets all of his movements, going towards him as he moves forward, shifting her hips up to meet every single one of his thrusts, taking him deeper and deeper._

_They’re utterly in sync, but he shouldn’t be surprised. They work well together in every single way - interrogations and on-foot pursuits the first that come to mind - so why should this be any different?_

_Like always, they’re Peralta and Santiago, Jake and Amy, and they have a job to do that they’ll accomplish seamlessly. Together._

_“Faster.”_

_He doesn’t know who says it, but then they’re racing. He rocks in and out of her faster, his hand drifting to where they’re joined to rub her clit fervently. It earns a sharp cry from Amy, and she kisses him like he’s the last drop of water on a barren earth._

_With a quick nip to her neck and a few more strokes to her clit, she comes apart underneath him, letting out a noise somewhere between a moan and a whine as she clenches around him, spurring him into his own climax as he finishes with a yell of his own._

_They’re both quiet for a second, and when they meet eyes he gives her the dopiest smile he’s ever mustered up._

_“You’re amazing,” he rasps out, pulling out of her and bringing his head forward so he can peck her lips softly. “So amazing.”_

_He peppers kisses to every inch of her face he can reach. If he can’t tell her how he feels about her with his words, maybe he can like this._

_She doesn’t answer him, staring at the ceiling as she tries to catch her breath, eyes shut. She lifts her hand to tangle in his hair, ruffling it lightly._

_Then, she’s moving, pulling away and moving what seems like an entire ocean away from him and in an instant, all the ecstasy in his veins fades away._

_“Can I use your restroom?” she asks, clearing her throat._

_“Yeah,” he answers quickly. “Of course.”_

_He looks away as she gets up, hearing her shuffling around before going to the restroom and shutting the door quickly. He wants to get up and find his clothes, but all he can do in the moment is stare at the ceiling and hold onto the ghost of their pleasure._

_He’s daydreaming about the look on her face when she came apart underneath him when she steps out again, fully dressed. Nothing looks even a little bit out of place, and if it weren’t for a tiny red mark peeking out from the lower-than-usual cut of her blouse, there’s no evidence of their encounter._

_“I’m going to go,” she says, her voice a little flatt, arms coming up to cross over her chest._

_“Oh, okay. You don’t want any coffee or anything? A pep in your step for the road?” he offers, hoping it’s not too obvious he’s looking for a reason to remain in her presence._

_“No thank you,” she answers, sounding entirely too formal given what just occurred. “I’m just going to head out and take a cab home.”_

_“Oh, um, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?” he says, trying to keep his voice light and casual._

_“Yeah, tomorrow.”_

_With a final nod and half-smile, she rushes out of his apartment without so much as an awkward glance._

_Their ending exchange is so awkward that he just assumes that it would probably be a one-time thing._

_Then, two days later, he gets a text from her saying, ‘My apartment tonight? x’_

_Of course, he doesn’t say no._

_October 19th, 8:59 AM_

Unsurprisingly, she beats him to work the next day. 

More surprisingly, Jake actually makes it on time. _Barely_ , but it’s still worth something, right?

He trudges out of the elevator and into the bullpen, clutching a coffee cup in his hand. He brings it to his lips and takes a deep gulp, groaning in pure relief when the caffeine settles into him and he starts to really wake up. 

He really needs the kickstart; he never sleeps well after she leaves.

“Jake, for the love of god, keep your moaning in the bedroom where it belongs,” Gina complains without looking up from her desk as she scrolls through her phone.

Jake huffs a little, ignoring her jab as he sinks down lazily into his chair, trying to brush off how much his chest hurts when Amy pointedly ignores him from across their joined desks. She refuses to meet his eyes, instead hyper-focused on whatever’s on her computer screen.

“Morning, Amy,” he drones, voice low and still thick with exhaustion. 

At his direct comment, she looks up, and if he didn’t know any better he’d say her eyelids are droopier than usual. Now that he thinks of it, her pantsuit is _slightly_ crinkled at the collar, too, like she’d been picking at it.

“Good morning, Peralta,” she acknowledges politely, nodding her head at him before she unceremoniously turns back to her work.

Is she having trouble sleeping, too? Does she stay awake thinking about this could affect them down the line, or is it all just an unimportant fling to her? She never totally gives him the cold shoulder the morning after one of their trysts. Does her sudden change in behavior have to do with their out of the ordinary cuddling session last night?

Jake frowns, reaching for the Rubik’s cube on his desk to distract himself in an attempt to not look so desolate. 

He’s solved one side when a whistle sounds out from across the room.

“Damn,” Rosa calls out in a low voice from her desk. “What the hell happened to you two?”

Amy whips around quickly, the wheels of her rolling chair squeaking against the floor. 

“What do you mean?” she asks, eyes wide and frantic, all trace of exhaustion wiped from her face. “What are you talking about?”

Rosa frowns, eyebrow quirking up. “Damn, chill, Santiago. You just both look like shit today.”

“Well, I couldn’t sleep,” Jake starts slowly, stretching back in his chair _._ “Not a wink.”

Charles instantly rushes towards him from the kitchen, his tie flopping backwards with the speed of his ascent. He’s the picture of concern, and it’d be endearing if it weren’t for everything else on Jake’s mind right now. 

“Are you okay? Did you get sick? I have a few home remedies I could whip up for you -’’

“I’m okay Charles,” Jake cuts him off. He pauses, glancing over at Amy who’s become substantially more interested in her pen since he started talking.

_Fuck it._

“Just - a lot of stuff’s keeping me awake these days.” 

In the corner of his eye, he sees Amy freeze, hand twitching around the fountain pen he got her for Secret Santa months ago.

Then, suddenly, Charles flies forward and is in his space in an instant, wrapping his arms around him tightly. 

“You know I’m here for you, Jakey,” Charles murmurs, a little quieter than he usually is. “We can have a guy’s night at my apartment if that’ll make you feel better. Hon Mhai and Disney if you want!”

As a reflex to his words, Jake tightens his hold on him, hugging him back hard. 

“Thanks, bud,” he says back, voice a little thick with sincerity. “But I think I’ll be okay. Next time, though.”

When he pulls away and pats Charles on the shoulder, Amy’s already gone. 

_September 28th, 7:56 PM_

_“Oh my god, don’t stop, Jake.”_

_Amy’s voice rings out like a siren in the night, panting as she twists her hand in Jake’s curls._

_Jake gazes up at her from between her legs, eyes dusky and face coated with her arousal. He gives her a slow, cheshire-cat grin before swirling his tongue around his lips, licking off her wetness that stained his mouth._

_“What’d you say?” he asks, biting the inside of his lower lip. “Didn’t hear you just now.”_

_“I hate_ _you,” she growls, yanking his hair hard and pulling his head back._

_He groans at the pleasure-pain shooting through his body, moving his hand down the outside of her leg, pausing to affectionately stroke the stretch marks on her inner thigh before he reaches her slit. He sinks one of his calloused fingers inside her, making her gasp and writhe against his touch._

_“I’m not so sure about that,” he muses, eyes raking up her body to where she’s leaning against the bed frame, face flushed and body damp with sweat. “Kind of sounds like you don’t want me anywhere else.”_

_She opens her mouth, probably about to snark back in defiance._

_He doesn’t let her say a thing._

_With a sudden motion, he pushes in a second finger and twists his hand, and the moan that rips from deep inside her chest bounces off the walls._

_“Shh,” he murmurs. “Wouldn’t want to get noise complaints, now would we? Wouldn’t want to make that landlord of yours disappointed, hm?”_

_With another devilish grin, he leans down to take her clit into his mouth, and she bucks up off the mattress with a loud cry._

_“You know me so well,” she groans back, hint of a smile playing at the side of her lips._

_He responds with a small kiss to each of her inner thighs, chuckling against her heat._

_“S’ why I’m so good at this.”_

_“Shut up, you idiot,” she growls, teeth audibly clenching together._

_She tugs on his hair again, eyes glinting with mischief and prompting a dreamy sigh from him._

_“And put my mouth to better uses?”_

_A small giggle escapes her lips, and she slaps a hand over her mouth, like she’s more embarrassed about that than her moans and whines._

_He distracts her by bringing his mouth back down, swirling his tongue slowly around her clit, holding her hips as she arches into him._

_He can’t look away from her, making full-eye contact as his mouth and fingers double their efforts, obsessed with how her eyes slam closed and mouth falls wide open from sheer bliss._

_“Keep doing that,” she practically begs, eyes dark and oh-so-intense as they open and zero in on his own._

_“Only if you kiss me first.”_

_The words come tumbling out of his mouth without his permission, and he panics briefly, pulling back from her sharply._

_Then, Amy grabs him, one hand on his shoulders and another in his hair, pulling him forward with desperation and kissing him._

_They both let out a satisfied sigh on impact, and she aggressively probes his lips with her tongue until he opens for her._

_And Jake’s drowning. Drowning in her heaven, pulled down deeper and deeper every passing second they’re connected like this, and he doesn’t ever want to be pulled out of it._

_October 19th, 9:08 AM_

Jake finds her alone in the file room, shifting through some papers he knows she doesn’t need for the case she’s working on right now.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” he begins, surprisingly composed for the sheer amount of emotion coursing through him. “Or am I going to have to figure it out on my own?”

She shakes her head, not looking away from the folder she’s skimming in her hands.

“Nothing’s wrong, Jake.”

Her voice is light, like she doesn’t have a worry in the world. The concept alone is incredibly stupid to him because Amy’s _always_ worrying about something, no matter how insignificant.

“Then _look_ at me!” he begs, his voice rising an octave without his permission.

Her head snaps up, and even he’s surprised at the desperation that leaks into his tone. His fists clench at his sides, and then he frowns deeply, his whole face sagging.

Amy’s entire essence softens a little, and she hastily puts the file back before crossing the room and going over to him. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, discomforted when he realizes how much like a kicked puppy he sounds. Sure, Amy brings out certain emotions in him that nobody else ever could before, but that doesn’t mean he wants to go and get vulnerable in the file room on a random Thursday morning. 

She’s giving him that _face_ , the one she makes when she’s doing all sorts of mental calculations in her head about where a conversation could go. 

“No, Jake, no,” she rushes, shaking her head frantically before hesitantly placing a hand on his forearm to try and placate him. “Of course you didn’t.”

“So why are you being so weird this morning?” he pleads. “It’s never like this the morning after.”

Amy stays quiet, guilt written all over her face. Her mouth parts slightly like she’s going to say something, but then it closes again. 

“Amy, _please_ tell me what’s going on. You’re like, my best friend in the world - don’t tell Charles - and you matter so much to me, way beyond what goes down at night,” he explains, voice a little unsteady as he takes her hand. “So if something’s bothering you, I want to make it better.”

He knows he’s being uncharacteristically open about how he’s feeling right now, as big a tell as any that he’s definitely super in love with her.

“I think we need to end our arrangement,” she blurts suddenly, voice weak, and all the color leaves his face. 

“ _What?_ ” 

“This,” she gesticulates between them stiffly, “ _Whatever_ we had, it needs to stop.”

Stupidly, tears prick at the back of his eyes, but he blinks once, hard enough to will them away, and forces himself to maintain her gaze. 

“What did I do?” he rasps, words not coming to him as easily as they normally do.

“You didn’t do anything,” she insists, her expression beginning to crack. “Jake, you did not do a single thing wrong, I _promise_.”

 _Bullshit._ He shouldn’t have fucking cuddled with her last night. He knew it was too much, but he couldn’t resist being close with her like that. 

Stupidly, he’s still holding onto her hand like it can keep her from leaving.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, voice thick, finally looking away from him.

“Tell me why,” he begs, squeezing her hand to bring her attention back to his face. “Amy, please.”

Her face twists like she’s in pain, and she’s pulling away from him, heading for the door.

Like always, Amy Santiago is walking away from him. 

_October 19th, 1:45 PM_

“Peralta, Santiago, my office.”

Captain Holt’s baritone rings out across the bullpen, startling Jake out of his misery. 

The captain’s standing in the doorway of his office, looking at the two of them expectantly. 

_Oh God, he knows. He somehow knows that we’ve been smushing booties for six weeks and that it came to emotional head because he has eyes and ears everywhere. He’s like Santa Claus. A beardless, stoic, non-cheery Santa Claus._

Limbs feeling heavier than usual, he trails Amy into Holt’s office, holding his breath. She, like he, is moving stiffly, arms flat at her side, her head slightly lowered. 

They file inside, and right when Holt shuts the door, he can’t keep his stupid mouth quiet. 

“Sir, before you say what you’re going to say, we just want to say we’re sorry,” he blurts.

Amy pales beside him, sending him a look of absolute _death_ , but Holt just raises an eyebrow. 

“Sorry for what?”

His face doesn’t change, but he sounds a little taken off-guard, his normal impassivity betrayed by his tone. 

“Do you have something to tell me, detectives?” Holt asks, his voice taking on a little bit of a new edge as he narrows his eyes in suspicion. 

“Nope! No! Just - _hah!_ Fooled you! Just wanted to keep you on your toes, is all,” Jake fires quickly, a little overly loud as he tries to be as nonchalant as possible. 

From beside him, Amy just huffs and he can practically _hear_ her rolling her eyes. 

“... Very well, then. I have what’s likely to be your final update on the Ferguson Case.”

Jake and Amy immediately straighten up, all of the baggage of their previous conversation dissipating. The Ferguson Case had been the bane of their work lives for a considerable amount of time, and while they felt like they were super close to a break in the case, Major Crimes swooping in was imminent. 

Seven weeks ago - only a week before they began their arrangement, the pair was called in to the scene of a break-in gone wrong in which a bodega owner, Nathaniel Ferguson, had been shot dead for a mere $23 that had been in the cash register. Surveillance video caught a man previously brought in on minor possession charges was the one behind the trigger. When he was brought in for questioning, he’d broken down, stumbling through an account of being blackmailed and threatened with the death of his daughter if he didn’t comply. Further investigation had revealed that robbers of several other bodegas across Brooklyn reported similar stories. 

The question was who was forcing people to rob a bunch of bodegas? And why? Everyone knew something bigger was going on, but it seemed to be slipping by right under their noses.

“Facial recognition technology picked up a woman who was present at three of the seven robberies,” Holt continues, measured.

“There’s no way that’s a coincidence,” Amy murmurs thoughtfully, her hands moving to her hips as she takes in the captain’s words. Two of her fingers twitch restlessly.

“Do we have a lead on where she could be?” Jake speaks up, pleased when his voice doesn’t crack.

“Yes, actually. We were able to identify her this morning as Mariah Johnson -’’

“ _Ugh_ , that’s her name? So lame,” Jake cuts the captain off. 

For a second, Holt just stares at him. He’s making a face Jake thinks he might make if all of his stupid paintings of rocks got destroyed, or if he didn’t tie his shoes symmetrically. 

It’s a useless comparison though. As much as he wants to, he can’t read Holt like a book the way he can with Amy.

“She is currently staying at an apartment in Flatbush,” Holt continues after a beat. “I want you two to go and ask a few questions, and if necessary bring her in. I am working on getting a search warrant for her residence, so I will follow up with you both when I receive word on its status,” Holt explains.

Amy nods vigorously. “We’re on it, sir. We won’t let you down!”

“Yeah! And more importantly, we’re not going to let the Vulture _vulture_ this case!” 

Amy and Captain Holt both turn to glare at him, wearing twin expressions of disdain.

“I mean… We’re going to solve this case! For the good of Brooklyn!”

_October 19th, 3:37 PM_

The drive to the apartment complex is more silent than either of them care for. 

At some point, Jake starts trying to crack I Spy jokes, but Amy’s not the most responsive audience in the world. He hopes it’s due to the major break in the case that they could potentially make, and not the awkward, almost unwilling heart-to-heart that happened in the file room. 

She pulls up to the curb, puts the car in park, and turns to look at him, steely determination set on her face as her eyebrows draw together. 

“We’re good to do this, right?” Amy asks.

Her tone betrays the resolve on her face. Her voice is slightly wobbly, and suddenly she looks shaken, like she’s staring down the barrel of a gun.

Taking a chance, he reaches out to squeeze her shoulder. She stiffens for the briefest second, but then relaxes right before he pulls away. 

“Yeah,” he reassures softly. “We’re always good. Dream team, remember?” 

Releasing a breath he didn’t realize she was holding, she nods and musters up a smile. 

It looks a little half-hearted.

“Okay. Let’s do this, then.” 

In perfect sync, they open their car doors and head for the building. He chooses to focus on the task at hand instead of the new and disheartening emotional gap between them.

If they don’t find Johnson here right now, they can always come back later. Alternatively, they can go on door duty and ask the neighbors about her. Worst case scenario, they can pull security footage and see where she was heading off to or plan a stake out, but he’d prefer not to do any of that if they don’t have to. 

Regrettably, the complex does not have an elevator, so he complains the whole six flights of stairs they have to walk to get to Johnson's apartment. Huffing dramatically when they finally reach the door, Amy reaches out to knock three times. 

“NYPD, open up!”

Not a sound. 

Jake presses his ear to the wall, trying to listen for anything indicating someone could be inside, but to no avail. 

“Dammit,” he growls under his breath. “Nothing.”

Amy lets out a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“There’s still a chance,” she says, but it sounds like she’s trying to reassure herself more than anyone else. “We can come back later, or stake her out, but we’ll figure it out.”

“We’re running out of time though,” he points out, rather unhelpfully. 

“I _know,_ Jake,” she replies, voice terse, and he actually flinches at her tone. “Let’s go back to the precinct, get some surveillance equipment, and set up. It’s a Hail Mary, but I’d rather try and do something rather than sit around and wait for Major Crimes to show up.” 

Tense, she takes off down the hall, her heeled boots clicking against the floor.

“Um, yeah. Smort. Agreed.”

He catches up to her, and they turn to begin their descent again, falling back into the vaguely uncomfortable silence that they had been living in since the file room debacle. He kind of wants to say something, but all of his joking around has fallen flat today. So instead, he does something he never does: he shuts up. 

Then, as Amy reaches to push the door open to leave the building, it’s pulled open. 

She has different hair - dyed and cut, but it’s definitely her. Mariah Johnson stands before them, jumping a little when they bump into her.

Johnson's eyes skirt down to their badges, and suddenly she’s bolting before they can even get a word out, shoving past people on the sidewalk in an attempt to make a hasty escape. 

Jake and Amy move together in a flash, diving forward in tandem and flying down the street after her. 

Everything’s forgotten, and all of the emotional turmoil from earlier that morning is buried deep under the adrenaline that pumps through his veins. He was _born_ for chasing bad guys, and he could do this forever if it weren’t for stupid things like exhaustion and dehydration and the need for food chaining him down. _Nothing_ could ever give him a better feeling than being hot on the heels of a perp, moments away from justice.

Well, _almost_ nothing.

They run straight through a plume of exhaust from a broken down car, and he gasps deeply, pushing past the pain and tightness that arises in his lungs and sends his legs into overtime. From behind him, he hears Amy cough, but her footfalls don’t get any slower as she perseveres along with him. 

Amy’s a faster runner than him, but he has a leg up on her in his sneakers, so he pulls ahead enough to see Johnson duck into an alleyway. 

“She went for that alley!” he calls. 

“I’ll circle around and try to cut her off from the other side!” Amy yells back, turning into an adjacent alley and sprinting away. 

Jake tears into the alley he saw Johnson go into, and for a minute he slows down, momentarily thrown. There’s a maze of walls around him, and his stomach drops when he realizes Johnson could be anywhere at this point. It’s likely she got away, unless by some miracle Amy managed to cut her off on the other side. 

Taking a gamble, he impulsively decides to go left. His feet propel him forward as he accelerates into a jog, eyes darting to the ground to see if there’s any trace of Johnson she may have left behind.

Very faintly, he hears something rustle up ahead, and he doubles down and sprints forward with new vigor.

Turning another corner, he’s met by the sight of Johnson futilely attempting to jump onto a fire escape at a dead end, her arms outstretched above her. 

“It’s over, Johnson!” he thunders. “You may be able to run from me, but _justice_ is inescapable!”

_Hell yeah. That sounded dope._

His hands snap to his gun, but in an instant, Johnson whirls around, wielding a small revolver she seems to have produced from thin air. 

“D-Don’t move. Hands up. Now!” she growls, voice breaking and betraying the hard expression on her face.

Suddenly unable to breathe, he lifts his hands slowly, his chest tighter than it was for every single asthma attack he’s ever had.

Johnson’s face is drenched in sweat even if it’s only sixty degrees outside. Her blond hair sticks messily to her face, her entire body trembling. The hand not holding the gun is outstretched, like she’s trying to tell him to stay back. She looks like a cornered animal. 

_The most dangerous kind,_ he notes duly to himself. 

“Johnson,” he murmurs, voice low. “Put the gun down.” 

For a second, her face falters, but then she takes a step closer, grimacing at him. 

“Don’t you try anything, okay? You’re going to let me walk away, or else I shoot you,” she demands lowly, but her voice is shaking and her eyes are darting back and forth between him and the gun in her hand.

_Why is some random lady who was present at three of the crime scenes so hellbent on getting away? What makes her resort straight to holding me at gunpoint?_

Something isn’t right. His mind races, grounding him here in the moment but also exploding and going everywhere all at once. One thought rises above everything, though. 

She’s too important. There has to be a bigger picture she’s a part of, and if they lose her now, they’ll never uncover it, Major Crimes be damned. He can’t let her get away. 

“You know I can’t let you do that,” he says, soft and unwavering. 

Johnson pulls back the hammer on the gun, and everything in the universe simplifies down to one little moment in time. 

People always say your entire life flashes before your eyes when you’re moments away from death. But as Jake discovers, they’re wrong.

The only things going through his mind are all the high points, everything good that’s ever happened to him.

Little League baseball games and pizzas at Sal’s, late nights painting Nana and Gina’s nails, and curling up beside his mother on long nights where the silence seemed a little less deafening. Struggling through a thousand push-ups with Rosa at the academy, graduating, shoving a perp against a beat up old mustang and getting his first collar. There’s a promotion and a shiny new badge, a new desk on the fourth floor, and a found family. There’s Captain Holt’s voice, warm and proud, telling him _well done_ and slowly patching up the wound his father left behind even though it still feels fresh sometimes. 

There’s an uptight transfer from the six-four with dark eyes and raven hair who he butts heads with for years and years until he realizes she’s somehow made a home in the space between his ribs and his heart. There’s a silly bet and a horrible date and his heart skipping a beat on a rooftop. A misunderstanding, a first kiss, and the incredible hope for _everything that could still lie ahead._

Reflexively, his eyes shut. 

_I hope Amy’s not the one to find me._

Out of nowhere, something barrels into them and he’s flung to the ground, falling face-first into the gravel. 

In the same instant a shot rings out, and there’s a sharp cry of pain from above him. 

The voice making it is unmistakable, and his blood runs cold. 

_No. No no no, please no. Please not Amy. Please._

He flies to his feet, and before he knows what he’s doing he’s on autopilot, frantically throwing himself forward as Amy stumbles back. Reaching out, he tackles a screaming Johnson to the ground and cuffs her, every motion a blur. 

From somewhere behind him, Amy hisses in pain, and he spins around so fast he’s dizzy, but all of his own sensations are secondary to his partner who’s sitting up on the grimy floor, blood dripping onto the ground. 

Moving so quickly that he stumbles over his own feet, he radios for an ambulance and backup as he rushes to her, kneeling down and lifting one of his hands to cup her face, his heart pounding in his ears. She sucks in an aching breath when she tries to reach out for him, and his chest tightens painfully.

This is _not_ how it’s supposed to end. Not with her bleeding out on some dirty floor in a random back alley. 

If he’s being honest with himself, he was holding onto the hope that they would _never_ end. He always thought they could’ve had something that transcended all of time and reality so that even ceasing to exist could not come close to erasing it. 

“Amy, Amy look at me,” he begs, his voice quivering. “Backup’s on the way, you’re gonna be just _fine_ , I just need you to stay looking at me. Please, _please._ ” 

He can’t bring himself to look anywhere other than her face, afraid of what he might see. He locks onto her eyes, wide with shock and burning with something else under the surface that he doesn’t allow himself to dwell on. 

“Jake,” she starts, voice hoarse. “I’m okay. It - It just grazed me.” 

She lifts her forearm to prove her point, wincing a little. 

Tenderly, Jake reaches to hold her arm in both of his hands, afraid of jostling her too much. 

“You’re okay?” he asks, still a little disbelieving. 

She nods fiercely, and only then does he swallow his nerves and look down. 

Her coat is stained red, and when he peels the sleeve back gently to better examine the wound a wave of nausea rolls through him when he sees her shirt completely soaked through with crimson.

“Hey,” she whispers, taking his face in her hand and making him look at her. “I’m just fine.”

Then the pressure in his chest completely dissolves, and he’s pulling her into the most desperate hug he’s ever given anyone, careful not to put any additional strain on her arm. 

She throws her other arm around him, the tightness of her grip surprising him a little. He feels her whole body shudder once they make contact.

“Amy, what the hell were you thinking?” 

He means it to be a reprimand, but he’s so full of relief he can’t possibly be upset with her. For one terrifying second, he was afraid that he’d never hold her like this again. Just the memory of that feeling is enough to shake him to his core. 

“She was going to shoot you,” she utters, so soft he has to strain his ears to hear it. She sounds so sincere, and despite the lack of volume, her voice is strong. It’s full of conviction, so steady and melodic to his ears that it drowns out the approaching sirens.

Some deeper, more selfish part of him thinks her words sound like a confession. 

His brain starts to run a million miles a minute, an onslaught of thoughts that have been dying to be voiced for weeks, or even months, are suddenly on the tip of his tongue. 

_I love you. I want to be with you forever. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than in your arms. Every minute you’re not with me is a minute too many. Please, don’t go._

_Please, please don’t leave me alone._

Instead of saying any of it, he tugs her back into him, tenderly wrapping his arms around her and tucking his chin over her head that she has resting against his chest. 

His heart swelling up and jumping into his throat, he delicately presses his lips to her hairline, an echo of last night’s affection. 

This time, she responds by latching on to one of his hands, entwining their fingers together and squeezing softly. 

Frantic footfalls break them out of their trance, and they look up to see Terry and Rosa racing over, eyes wide with shock and worry. 

“How bad is she?” Terry asks, alarmed when he sees the blood. 

“I’m okay, Sarge,” Amy replies, even offering him a tiny smile. “Was just a graze.”

“Diaz, get the perp,” Terry orders, nodding to Rosa. 

Rosa darts off to where Johnson was laying on the floor before snarling something low in her ear, likely a string of obscenities that would make anyone cower.

“The ambulance is out by where you parked the car. She still needs to get cleared by a doctor, so let’s go,” Terry says in a no-nonsense voice, walking closer to usher them up.

Slowly, Jake rises to his feet, pressing one hand to the small of Amy’s back as she goes up with him. She refuses to let go of his other hand, even as he backs away a bit to give her some space if she needs it. 

“You sure you’re good?” he asks worriedly, paying no mind to the blood that’s leaked onto his jacket. 

Amy rolls her eyes at him, but shoots him a small smile nonetheless. “It’s just my arm, Jake,” she points out. “I’m perfectly okay. I promise.”

She rubs her thumb against his knuckles, and the protest that was about to leave his mouth dies in his throat. 

“Okay. Let’s get you out of here,” he says, squeezing her shoulder.

They begin the short walk back out of the alley, leaving their fear and Amy’s drying blood stains behind them on the gravel. 

_October 19, 5:01 PM_

They’re silent on the ambulance ride to the hospital, their only means of communication being hand squeezes and knuckle rubs that start after Amy reaches for Jake a few minutes into the trip. 

He’s bursting with hope at what this newfound familiarity could mean. At the same time, he chides himself for thinking about their romantic future right now when Amy literally almost died in front of him. There are bigger things to worry about, namely her well-being and their partnership. 

The atmosphere is still somewhat tense from the scare, even as she refuses to let go of him. She skims her fingers across his before resting on his pulse point, as if making sure he’s okay when _she’s_ the one who was almost mortally injured. 

A nurse walks into the room before either of them can acknowledge this new heavy (but not entirely unpleasant) weight between them. He runs through some basic questions, examining the wound before writing something down and saying he’ll be right back in an entirely too-cheery voice.

“So, did you see that guy’s name tag?” Jake asks, breaking the silence for the first time since they were in the ambulance. 

Amy looks up to meet his eyes, lifting an eyebrow. “No. What did it say?”

He bites his lip, holding back a snigger. “Jack Goff. Bet he gets all the ladies - or the dudes.” 

To his delight, he gets a laugh out of Amy, her body softly shaking while she tightens her hold on him. Smiling softly, he cards his fingers through her hair. It makes the tightness in his chest loosen just a little bit.

“Hey, shouldn’t you be at the precinct finalizing the arrest report?” she asks before he can make another comment.

He shrugs, offering her a sheepish smile. “This was more important to me. Sarge looked like he had it under control.” 

“I’m - ’’ She cuts herself off, taking a deep breath. “I’m really glad you’re here, Jake.”

“Me, too.”

He smiles gently at her, squeezing her hand. No matter what, she was okay. Emotional outbursts and uncomfortable vulnerability were nothing compared to the almost-disaster of the day. 

“Everything’s okay now,” he murmurs. It’s more like he’s talking to the open space, his words directed at neither himself nor her. 

“I lied,” she says after a beat. Her ominous words cut through the brief silence, startling him.

Jake cocks his head. She says it out of the blue, so he has no idea what she could be talking about. 

Amy looks guilty, even a little remorseful. Her eyes are downcast, and she refuses to look at him, instead staring at their clasped hands. 

“What are you talking about?” he asks, confused. “Are you in pain?”

“No, no, not that.” 

She finally looks up, and he’s shocked to see her eyes are a little glassy. 

Instantly, he springs forward, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone. Her own hand moves up to cover his, squeezing gently, and she closes her eyes to try and hide from him.

“Ames?”

“I knew you weren’t asking me for a hook up.”

All the breath leaves his body, and for a second he can barely comprehend what she said. He swallows thickly, pulse accelerating. 

“I… don’t understand,” he says, his voice suddenly meek.

She knew? She knew, and she cut him off and _lied?_

“I knew that you were confessing your feelings.” She keeps her eyes downcast, like she’s afraid to look at him. 

“Why did you say you wanted to hook up, then?” he asks slowly, tongue suddenly feeling heavy in his mouth. 

“I was scared. I’ve never felt anything close to the way I feel about you, and that terrified me,” she confesses, eyes finally skirting up to look at him.

“Why?” he dares to ask. 

She hesitates, like she’s thinking it over.

“Love has always been this weird abstract thing to me,” she starts, pausing for a little while and looking thoughtful.

He feels his heart stutter when she says the word _love_ , and he doesn’t dare breathe or move a muscle. He doesn’t interrupt either, wanting her to steer the conversation. This time, she’s the one bearing her heart to him, and he’s going to respect that and listen.

“I was always so focused on everything else, like my career and planning out my entire life, and I never accounted for how that kind of emotion would _actually_ affect me. I’m a crazy, type A control freak,” she actually manages to crack a smile at him, and he can’t help but smile back, his entire face softening, “but when I’m around you I’m not in control of _anything._ So I kept trying to convince myself that I didn’t _actually_ want to be with you, but all I did was hurt you.” 

“Ames, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!” she insists. “I hurt you, Jake! I saw the look on your face in the file room. I hurt you,” she repeats, her voice shrinking into something small and vulnerable.

“So apologize.” 

There’s no heat in his voice, just infinite warmth and endearment. 

“What?” she asks, unbelieving.

“Just apologize,” he murmurs, tracing her palm with his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, so softly he needs to strain his voice to hear her. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not - ’’

“Hey, isn’t that my thing to decide?” he starts, firm. “You can control many things, Amy, but the way I feel about you isn’t one of them.” 

He tries to keep his tone teasing and light-hearted, but gentle fondness leaks into his voice. 

She laughs softly, and he moves closer to wrap her in a hug. 

“It’s okay,” he repeats in a dulcet tone. “We’re always okay.”

Heart pounding, cradles her face in both of his hands, and leans down slowly, giving her time to move away. Instead, she lifts her head to press their lips together. She covers his hands with her own before pulling away and resting her forehead against his. 

The tension in the room dissipates, leaving nothing but contentment and endearment behind.

She smiles at him, so genuine and relieved and he can’t believe he almost never saw her smile again, almost never got to be on the receiving end of one of her fond looks, almost never got to kiss her again, and - 

“I love you,” he blurts, sudden and impulsive, and both of their eyes widen. 

_Dammit._

Him and his big mouth. They just went through something intense and near-deadly, so the last thing she needs is something to complicate things even further.

“I love you, too,” she bursts back, cheeks flushing a little bit.

His world stops spinning, and for the second time in one day his universe focuses down to one singular point.

Only this time it’s glorious. 

The too-bright fluorescent hospital lights buzz above them, adding extra brightness to her eyes that are already alight with disbelief and elated surprise. 

“You do?” 

She nods, smile slowly stretching across her face. 

“Yeah. That okay with you?” she asks, her eyes glinting for the first time all day. 

Before he can say anything, the door to the room opens, startling them both.

The doctor steps in, introducing himself in a tired, monotone voice and saying he’s there to clear her to go home. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks, unwrapping her arm to look over her injury.

“Honestly? I feel great,” she replies, looking up to meet eyes with Jake, small smile gracing her face.

From across the room, he beams at her so brightly that not even the sun in the sky could match him.

_October 19th, 9:17 PM_

Surely, he’s died and gone to heaven. 

That’s the only explanation for her trading sweet kisses with him while cuddling in his bed.

She hadn’t let go of him once since the doctor cleared her to go home, holding onto his arm as they walked out of the hospital, dropping kisses on his shoulder in the cab, and staying latched onto his hand after they walk into his apartment. 

After taking turns using the shower, they’d fallen into bed, exhausted and emotionally drained. 

Now, she’s molded against him, sighing into his mouth as he strokes down her jaw, every touch the epitome of affection.

Their kiss deepens a little as she probes his lips lightly. He opens for her without hesitation, humming when she sweeps her tongue through his mouth. One of her hands comes up to rest on the side of his face, and he swears he’s never been more content in his entire life. 

“Love you,” he mumbles against her mouth, thumb lightly rubbing circles on her waist where her shirt rode up. 

He’s never going to stop saying it, especially after almost losing her today. He promises himself that as long as he’s alive, she’s never going to go a day in her life without knowing how much he loves her. 

“I love you, too,” she whispers back, punctuating her statement with another deep kiss. 

Jake can hardly believe he can be with her like this right now, that she’s matching those three little words with her own. He’s over the moon, walking on air, and taking up permanent residence on cloud nine all at once. 

And from the way she keeps smiling into all of their kisses, he thinks she might be, too. 

She shifts so that their hips are aligned, and then she rocks forward gently. He lets out a slight groan in response before pulling back.

“Amy, your arm,” he gasps. “Maybe we should wait.”

Amy huffs and starts trailing kisses down his jaw. “For once in your life, can you be quiet?” 

He chuckles into her hair, voice dying in his throat once she leans back to pull off the well-worn NYPD shirt of his she was borrowing. 

“Someone’s eager,” he quips with a smug smile, letting out an ‘oof’ sound when she wacks him in the side. 

“Take off your shirt,” she tells him, already shimmying out of her borrowed pajama pants. 

“If I have to.” 

She rolls her eyes, and he sticks his tongue out at her as he peels off his shirt, mischief flashing in his eyes.

She jumps forward and tugs down his sweatpants and boxers, raising an eyebrow when he’s already fully hard and ready, already awaiting her attention. 

“Already?” Her eyes are light and her tone is teasing, and he can tell she’s amused. He’s too happy to care, though. 

“Love is the biggest turn-on of them all,” he says, straight faced and completely serious. 

Her lips twitch, and then she bursts out laughing, pitching forward against his chest. He joins her, cackling as he futilely tries to stifle his noise. It’s the kind of laugh that shakes his entire body, full of joy and affection.

“That’s a freaky kink you got there, Peralta,” she tells him, smiling so wide it could crack her face in half. 

He chuckles against her, bliss seeping into his bones.

“Good thing mine is being in love with goofy, idiot detectives that sit across from me,” she continues, voice happy and playful. 

“That’s kinda rude,” he mutters, but he’s full-blown grinning.

She laughs and pulls him into a kiss, nibbling his bottom lip and pulling away from him when he tries to deepen it. He pouts, but she just giggles at his antics before indulging him a little with a brief peck. 

“Sit,” she tells him, patting the edge of the bed. 

Dutifully, he complies, eyes following her movement curiously. Then, she sinks down to her knees in front of him, and his throat goes completely dry. 

“Ames,” he gasps lightly, arousal spiking as he stares down at her disbelievingly. 

Amy gazes up at him through her eyelashes, and slowly, he reaches out to place one hand in her damp locks to ground himself. 

She starts with a kiss to the tip of his shaft before wetting her lips and leaving a trail of sloppy kisses from the head to the base. She repeats the same motion, going up this time, and by the time she reaches his tip again his breathing is already ragged and unsteady. 

Before she can do anything else, he pulls her up to eye-level with him and gives her a soft kiss, so chaste compared to everything else she’d just been doing to him. He doesn’t trust his words to be able to properly convey everything he’s feeling right now, so he just holds her close to him and hopes that she can feel the adoration in all of his touches. 

She kisses him back for a brief moment, threading her fingers lovingly through his curls before she pulls away again. Then, she drops a peck to his cheek and his nose before dipping down and wrapping her lips around his cock. 

He releases a shaky breath and threads his fingers through her damp hair, eyes locked on hers as she begins to bob her head, her breath hot on him as she strokes his inner thigh with her thumb. She hums, and the vibrations around him make him moan, loud and uninhibited. 

“ _Ames_ ,” he repeats, wrecked and aimless as he strokes her shoulder with his other hand, attempting to channel how much she makes him feel into an affectionate act. 

She brings her hand up to wrap around what her mouth can’t cover, pumping him slowly while she sucks him off, pulling off a few times to lavish his length with more sloppy kisses before taking him back inside her mouth. 

Amy’s so utterly focused on getting him off, but at the same time she’s unabashedly affectionate with her kisses and sweet caresses. It makes something warm unfurl in the middle of his chest.

“I’m gonna come if you don’t stop, babe,” he manages, voice tight as he grits his teeth together, pet name slipping out unconsciously. 

In response, her hand that was petting his thigh moves to his lower back, trying to press him closer to her. 

His breath stutters when he realizes what she wants, and ever-so-lightly, he starts thrusting his hips forward, rocking in and out of her mouth as he turns into nothing but a mess of sweat and moans and praises for the amazing woman in front of him. 

“Ames, you’re so fucking good, so incredible, so perfect, I love you _so much -_ ’’

He comes apart completely, stilling and watching with total awe as Amy swallows every last drop he has to offer. 

She’s actually _beaming_ at him when she pulls off, kissing her way back up his body to his lips. 

He frames her face with his hands carefully, pulling her into a kiss as his body still tremors, tasting himself on her lips. 

When he pulls back to look at her again, she doesn’t look cocky or smug; she’s just gazing at him fondly, like he’s the brightest star in the galaxy and it’s honestly enough to make every cell in his body tingle. 

He’s never going to get over her giving him that look.

“You know how incredible you are?” he asks, panting a little.

She giggles softly, wrapping her arms around him again and nuzzling his neck. 

“Something tells me you’re going to keep reminding me.”

“Oh, I will. Every chance I get.” 

Then, with a very sudden movement, he unwinds her arms from around him, pinning her to the bed with a devilish smirk when he sees her eyes widen in surprise. 

“But now, it’s my turn,” he murmurs, attacking her mouth with his own again as he slides a hand down to her heat, dipping a finger inside her and making her cry out.

Boldly, she pushes his head downward, making him chuckle as he drags his lips down her body to where she really needs him the most. 

He starts by kissing her, mirroring her earlier actions, tongue darting out to slide between her folds as she arches her hips closer to him. Her thighs squeeze him, trapping him in a vice grip, but there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. He moves his ministrations to his clit, flattening his tongue and licking her with broad strokes that earn him a strangled moan and a tug to his hair. 

“Love it when you do that,” he groans, lifting his hand so he can push one, then two fingers inside her. 

She sucks in a sharp breath, actually whining when she first feels him fill her. 

“D-Do what?” she stutters, preoccupied by the unbelievable feeling of his mouth and fingers working their magic.

“Pull my hair.”

At his words, she gives his curls another sharp tug, and he groans again before wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking for everything he’s worth. She writhes almost violently, and he presses his other arm over her hips to hold her steady. He twists his fingers inside her, and her responding cry sends him into overdrive, flicking his tongue against her flesh and fucking her faster with his fingers. 

“I-I’m going to come,” she says throatily, sounding like she’s struggling just to breathe.

“Come on, Ames,” he urges, adding a third finger and moving so fast his forearm is starting to get sore. “Come on, you’re so beautiful like this, so perfect all the time. I love every face you make, but especially the one you make when you come for me. Come on, come on.”

The combination of his dirty talk and ministrations prove to be too much, and she comes on his mouth and around his fingers, quivering a little. He pulls his fingers out of her, but he lingers, licking her a few times before she sits up and pulls him towards her again. He goes willingly, pecking her softly before she curls into him. 

He’s hard again, twitching against her thigh, but it’s almost forgotten as she starts to lavish him with affection, kissing his neck and cheeks while rubbing his shoulder with one hand and playing with his hair with her other one. 

Finally, when she brings his mouth back to hers she lowers one of her hands to curl around him. 

He shudders against her, exhaling and going boneless in her arms as he presses a kiss to her flaming cheek.

“I really love touching you,” she says, something akin to awe leaking into her voice.

“Yeah,” he starts, playful smirk forming on his face. “I’m hot stuff, aren’t I?”

“Oh my god.” 

Despite her eye-rolling at his familiar antics, she lets go of him and leans back against the pillows. Her cheeks flushing, she spreads her legs, and he moves forward, drawn to her like a beacon in the night. He slots against her and presses a long, sweet kiss to her lips.

“I need you,” she says softly, voice dripping with heat and yearning, and it makes his heart do jumping jacks inside his chest.

He nods, squeezing her hand when he’s suddenly unable to find his voice. 

She stops him when he reaches for his bedside drawer, and he looks at her quizzically.

“It’s okay,” she says, suddenly a little shy. “I’m on birth control.”

_Oh._

“We can still use a condom if you want, though,” she says when he doesn’t answer. 

“Do _you_ want to?” he asks, thumb stroking her cheekbone.

“No,” she answers honestly, turning her head to kiss his wrist. 

He gives her a small, breathless smile. 

“Me either.”

Wrapping her arms around him, she pulls him closer to her, kissing him with gentle vigor that makes his chest ache.

He pulls back, guiding himself to her entrance. He studies her face, looking for any signs of trepidation. There are none. Her gaze is full of love and certainty, and with a small kiss, he shifts forward and presses himself inside her. 

Sinking back down closer to her, he rests his forehead against hers, both of their breathing completely ragged. Feeling her like this, being with her with no more barriers - in the figurative and literal sense - is the most intense thing he’s ever felt in his life. 

Neither of them move for a second, allowing the simple pleasure of being connected like this to wash over them. Amy gently brushes her lips against his, feather-light, and his entire body reacts to her affection, trembling lightly. 

“I love you,” she murmurs sincerely, one of her hands finding his and entwining their fingers. 

“I love you, too,” he whispers back, adoring and completely breathless as he starts to thrust gently, breath stuttering. 

She subtly grinds up into him as he rocks in and out of her, eyes closing as he loses himself in the sensations and emotions that come with being with her like this. Her other hand drifts to his hair again, not tugging anymore, but only gently petting now. Reflexively, he leans in close again, kissing her softly and sweetly. Her tongue darts out to deepen it, and he opens for her, groaning loudly and deeply when their tongues brush together. He shifts upward in an attempt to brush up against her clit, and he smiles into their kiss when she whimpers. 

“Is that good?” he asks her, voice low and filthy, but also incredibly reverent and adoring. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” she gasps out, clenching around him and tightening her grip on him, nails digging into his back pleasantly.

“Look at me,” he says, his voice sounding too loud for the quiet, intimate atmosphere they’ve created.

Instantly, her eyes snap open, boring into his, and he sees all of his passion and euphoria and devotion echoed in her gaze. Underneath it all, he sees love. 

And his heart absolutely bursts from the inside out, exploding within his chest and unleashing jubilation he didn’t know he was capable of feeling. 

_Amy Santiago loves him._

“Say it again,” he begs desperately, realizing a beat later just how vague his request is. 

It doesn’t matter; her response is instant and incredibly genuine, hitting him full-force with its magnitude.

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you, Jake, I love you so much,” she babbles before swallowing thickly, choking on her breath. “ _I love you, I love you, please, faster._ ”

Her words spur him on, and he loses himself in her, thrusting faster and deeper and drowning out every other sensation that’s not coming from her. They’re overwhelmed by bliss, completely lost in one another.

She crushes their lips together, whining into his mouth and then she’s quivering around him, falling apart in his arms and squeezing his hand as she lets out a final desperate moan that triggers his own release. 

He pulls back a little to look at her, her face flushed and fond, and he can’t help but kiss her again. 

It’s chaste this time, soft and loving. He revels in her touch as she strokes up and down his back, her hands pausing at the top of his neck to rub the muscles there lightly. 

When they look at each other again, they’re both all smiles. 

Without warning, she lets out a big yawn, and he lets out a throaty chuckle. 

“Looks like I wore you out,” he teases, gently knocking his head against hers. 

She shoves back lightly, only she weaves her arm through his and doesn’t let him go. 

“Yeah, it’s not like it’s been a long day, or anything.”

With new familiarity, she tucks herself into his side, resting her head on his chest before craning her neck to make eye contact with him. 

He smiles sweetly at her, expression endlessly loving as he wraps an arm around her to bring her closer before kissing her forehead. For a little while he plays with her hair, a comfortable silence enveloping them both. 

“Will… Will you still be here when I wake up?” he asks suddenly, soft and a little hesitant. 

She cuddles closer to him, squeezing him tighter. “I’m not going anywhere.”

_October 20th, 8:22 AM_

The first thing Jake registers when he wakes is that his arm is numb. He shifts and groans a little bit, tugging back, but a weight keeps it pinned down.

Then, he feels soft pressure applied to his face, first on his cheek, then on his forehead, nose, and lips. 

That’s when it clicks, his heart lurching pleasantly in his chest. 

He blinks his eyes open slowly, still heavy with sleep, and immediately meets Amy’s gaze as she lays parallel to him, looking all cozy and beautiful and content snuggled up against him and wrapped in his blanket.

“Good morning,” she murmurs, eyes bright. 

Unable to speak he lets out a small breath, incredulous and awed. In lieu of a response, he starts to lean forward, and she meets him halfway for a tender kiss. 

He pulls back, goofy smile stretched across his face so wide he’s sure he looks like a total idiot, but he doesn’t care. 

_She’s here. She didn’t leave. She stayed._

_She loves me._

“What?” Amy asks, lifting an eyebrow and smiling softly at him. “What are you thinking?”

_I love you. I want to be with you forever. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than in your arms. Every minute you’re not with me is a minute too many. Please, don’t ever go._

This time, he says it.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're still with me, thank you so much for reading! This fic truly was a journey, but it was one I was very happy to take. :)  
> You can find me on tumblr at @fezzle. Come say hi!


End file.
